Subject: Re: My face is straight. So is my spine.
From: Tim O'Connor (oconnort@nyu.edu)
Date: Wed Jul 03 2002 - 02:47:01 EDT
On Tue, Jul 02, 2002 at 07:49:44PM -0700, Cecilia Baader wrote:
> Don't listen to him, sistahs. I know nothing about nuns, amok or
> otherwise. No, no. You cannot torture the truth out of me, despite the
> varied arcane methods that the church has perfected over the centuries. I
> know nothing, you hear?
The church is on to me. I have fled Iceland and taken refuge in Paris, where
I await orders from Madame Dufarge. The pope, she is after me. That face-
recognition software at Notre Dame has been updated to include my face.
But -- it cannot see behind the poppy mask!
> I do not even know this, this, Tim O'Connor. I
> mean, clearly the man is insane.
This Cecilia is sly, very sly. Yet she is in league with the pope.
> Note that this man, known to this list as "Tim O'Connor," but to whom we
> share forthwith refer to as the mythic figure, LaughingTim (for who else
> but a superhero could find a curling iron on such short notice?), claims
> to be in Iceland with the oft-mentioned but rarely-glimpsed Dave Eggers.
Sorry for having made the mistake. I had intended to say Greenland. Or
was it Ireland? At any rate, the curl is back in American literature,
and we can all rest easily now.
> Last seen, SuperTim was crossing the New York/Wisconsin border in a
> slightly wrinkled chambray shirt, wreaking havoc on all of the
> cheesemakers. This week, he claims to be saving the curl in Dave Eggers'
> hair. Now, agreed, anyone who's ever seen a picture of the McSweeney's
> editor's feted head of hair would agree that this national treasure NEEDS
> saving. However, we have only the word of LaughingTim that the curl has
> lost a bit of its bounce. Can we truly trust the word of a man who drinks
> eagles' blood and sees nunzamok all over?
I eluded the nuns. Now the angels want to wear my red shoes. Cecilia knows
that I harbor nothing but good will toward cheesemakers. Indeed, I sit here
typing with my elbow resting on a pretty good chevre whose scent may get me
evicted from my room.
> Clearly, the rumors about my knowledge in this have been exaggerated. I
> thank you for ignoring this entire matter.
Je ne comprend pas.
> (And just as clearly, this message makes absolutely no sense, even to me.
> If you need help deciphering it, refer to 'Nine Stories' and McSweeney's
> Quarterly, which is one of the few remaining journals that publishes
> fiction that doesn't make me want to puke. Bravo, Dave Eggers.)
Indeed! Bravo, McSweeney's! Bravo, all amateur readers who have made it
this far into the discussion. And bravo to the cheesemakers among us.
And greetings from Paris, where the baguettes are remarkably damp today.
I am still pleased to see that the much-feared bloodletting on this
list has not taken place. Today I will try to locate a JDS paperback
as a housewarming gift for a fellow I met last night who has never read
him. It's either that or Joyce for this fellow, and I think giving a
copy of Joyce to a new acquaintance is too much like buying lingerie
(or is it linguine?) for someone after a first date.
Cheers to all those to whom I would like to send a postcard but
cannot ... now that Cecilia has unmasked me. However, I am happy to
note that our REAL Laughing Man is still remarkably at large on this list.
Now to conspire with the bananafish de Paris.
--tim
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